"Not enough, anyway. And they'll nail him. Yes"—he
rolled over on his side as though to rise—" they'll nail him.
They made a deal. With Turpin."
Mr. Campbell did not speak for a moment or two. Then
he replied, in a flat tone, "Turpin's gone."
"Gone!" Then: "Gone where?"
"To hell," Mr. Campbell said, "if I had my way. I reckon
the Lord'll agree with me."
Mr. Munn pushed himself up on one elbow and reached
out to clutch at the other man in the darkness. " Listen," he
demanded, " what's become of Turpin?"
" You got him," Mr. Campbell said.
Mr. Munn clutched his arm. " Got him?"
" Over the left ear," Mr. Campbell went on.
Mr. Munn's breath made a sharp sound. He released his
grip on the other man's arm. "You mean," he said, paused,
then proceeded with a steady voice, " he's dead."
" As a doornail," Mr. Campbell told him. "I reckoned you
Mr. Munn lay back on the blanket " I didn't know," he
said. " There wasn't any way for me to know. You see "—
he paused, like a man searching his mind for certainty—"you
see, I didn't do it."
The other man did not answer for a moment. "Well," he
said then, matter-of-factly, "it don't make any difference to
me if you did. It don't-----"
"But I didn't," Mr. Munn denied quietly.
" Somebody shot him out the window of your office. With
your rifle. Forty yards, and nailed him clean. It don't make
any difference to me. Or to plenty others round here, I
"I went there," Mr, Munn said. "I wrote a note to the
girl that helps me. Then I left. I left the door open, because
she'd be coming soon. Somebody else-----"
"Did you see anybody when you came out?" Mr. Camp-
bell inquired casually.
"I came out the back way. I didn't see anybody in the